‘Vile,’ Alina muttered under her breath, recoiling, and turned sharply at the sound of Mareena’s amused chuckle.
‘It is at first,’ the phoenixian princess said with a faint smile. ‘But one becomes desensitised over time.’
Alina wasn’t convinced she ever could. The sight of malformed limbs suspended in amber light stirred something deeply uneasy within her, but she held her tongue. Instead, she turned her focus fully onto Mareena. ‘Why bring me here? Why show me any of this?’
With a soft sigh, Mareena began gathering her notes, aligning them with meticulous care. She cast one last glance about the room, at the shelves of preserved life, the strange stillness of things never born before she gestured silently for Alina to follow.
They moved in solemn silence, winding through lit corridors until they arrived at another door. It creaked open beneath Mareena’s touch, and together they stepped into a smaller chamber.
Alina knew at once it was a physician’s ward. Beds lined thewalls in neat rows, the air heavy with salves and herbs. And at the very end, resting upon the final cot, lay a figure she recognised at once.
Dawn, fast asleep.
‘How does alchemy work?’ Alina asked, though she wasn’t entirely certain she wished to know. Still, she needed something, anything, to occupy her thoughts, to steer them away from the unease curling in her chest.
‘It’s rather complex,’ Mareena replied softly, easing the door shut behind them. She offered a nod of greeting to the two physicians tending to a phoenixian man writhing on a nearby cot, his hands clutched tightly to his stomach. Alina watched as they pressed a vial of shimmering blue liquid to his lips; he swallowed, and sleep took him almost instantly, like a silk curtain falling over the flame of pain.
‘It isn’t simply alchemy,’ Mareena went on. ‘It is metaphysical manipulation, an art formed of three interwoven layers: the flesh, the essence, and the pattern. To craft a hybrid, one must alter all three.’
Drawn in by her words despite herself, Alina stepped closer to the final bed where Dawn lay motionless. There was something strangely serene about her. So still, so unguarded, she looked almost… innocent.
‘We begin by taking vital organs from both creatures,’ Mareena continued, her tone clinical yet reverent. ‘Then, through ritual, we extract their core instincts, the very soul of their being. The final stage requires inscribing arcane glyphs to trace each species’ unique metaphysical signature. We bind those elements using rare metals and suspend them in a clay designed to mimic a womb. The hybrid fetus is then nourished by blood sigils until it is fully formed.’
Alina blinked. ‘If I’m being perfectly honest, I didn’tunderstand a word of that.’
Mareena’s lips curved into a gentle smile, and for a fleeting moment the entire room felt a shade warmer for it. ‘It does tend to sound like nonsense until one has studied the intricacies for years. But in time, it begins to make sense. Like poetry written in a forgotten tongue.’
They came to a halt at the foot of the modest cot where Dawn lay sleeping. Alina watched the gentle rise and fall of the witch’s chest. Subtle, fragile proof that life still lingered within her. For a fleeting, breathless moment, Alina had feared they were too late. The quiet relief that followed surprised her more than she cared to admit.
‘The witch possesses magic,’ Mareena said, her voice soft but edged with purpose.
Alina turned to her, brow furrowing. ‘She does.’
‘Imagine what we might accomplish with her blood.’
Alina’s body tensed, her breath caught somewhere between caution and dread. In that instant, she felt the familiar shimmer of a presence at her back. She didn’t need to turn to know that Hessa had appeared, silent as a shadow, her attention fixed upon them.
‘If I could obtain even a single vial,’ Mareena continued, her voice unchanging, ‘we could attempt to forge weapons laced with magic.’
‘Weapons?’ Alina echoed, her voice quieter now, wary.
‘You have no army, Alina,’ Mareena said, stepping closer, her tone almost coaxing. ‘But if I could infuse steel with sorcery, if we wielded weapons born of magic and paired them with your dragons… together, we would be unstoppable.’
Alina looked down at her own hands, the weight of those words settling into her bones. Curiosity prickled beneath her skin, cold and strange.
‘Don’t,’ came Hessa’s warning from behind, her voice a low whisper edged with urgency. ‘It’s not worth it, amira.'
‘But surely wielding such weapons would be perilous,’ Alina said, choosing to ignore the desert princess. ‘If they were ever to fall into the wrong hands…’
‘Everything of value carries its own danger,’ Mareena replied smoothly, her tone unwavering.
Alina’s gaze drifted once more to the witch lying still upon the cot. ‘Do you truly believe you can forge weapons imbued with magic using her blood?’
Mareena lifted one elegant shoulder in a measured shrug. ‘I do not know. But I can try.’
‘Ask her what she gains from it,’ Hessa hissed, her voice now louder, almost pressing against Alina’s ear. ‘She’ll retain the method, the pattern. The phoenixians would possess something no other kingdom could ever withstand, amira.'
‘You could defeat Saren,’ Mareena offered, her crimson eyes gleaming. ‘Perhaps even Hagan.’
